Use Me To Use You
by Wesz
Summary: Puck's mother sends her son off to Dalton, where he meets Blaine and he soon finds out there's something odd about the boy. Plaine, both POV. Please follow & review!
1. Chapter 1 You get what you give

**Title: Use Me To Use You**

**Author: Wesz**

**Genre: Angst/Romance**

**Rating: T**

**Summary: Puck's mother decides that she can't deal with her son anymore, so she sends him off to Dalton, where he meets Blaine. However, the curly haired boy seems a little off and before Puck realizes is, he is stuck with him. Puck/Blaine, both POV.**

**Author's note: Welcome to my newest story. This first chapter is just an introduction. Chapters will always start with Puck's POV and end with Blaine's POV. Blaine's first chapters will be memories from his past, though. Please review, I'd love to hear your thoughts.**

**Warning: This para contains homosexuality and something else that I don't want to give away yet.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter one**

You get what you give

_Puck_

You could say that Noah Puckerman had screwed up his life, but that didn't mean that the boy with the Mohawk would ever confirm that. No, he had always made his decisions based on the expected rating of fun he would have with them. He was careless, did what he was feeling like and would surely never apologize for his actions. When his father had disappeared from his life one day, totally unannounced, Puck was obligated to grow up quickly. His mother had been a broken mess and he had soon learned to take care of himself. When puberty hit him, he had already figured out that no one was ever going to assure his happiness. The only one who could that was himself. He had to create his own luck and that realization had changed him into a person that seemed to have lost his heart, empathetically, of course. The boy never thought about the consequences of his actions and he had been living day by day. Some people thought he was going by the carpe diem way, but secretly it had been his cautiously built up walls, which protected him from any hurt. He would be damned if he would start caring about people again when it had been proven to him that all they would do was leave him in the end.

Psychologists say that one's past shows itself in one's behavior, no matter how far it was pushed away to the back of one's mind. They would probably also say that Noah Puckerman was living prove of that theory, but the Mohawk'd man really didn't care. As stated before, the boy would do as he pleased and he didn't see any wrong in that. Still, it had somehow hurt that his mother hadn't been able to handle him anymore. It had happened on the night when Puck turned sixteen. He had gone out to celebrate with some friends and with the company of the always enjoyable liquids that contained alcohol. Blue lights were illuminating the living room in flashes when Puck's mom opened the door to let her son be dragged in by two police officers. Apparently he had been convinced that, even after a bottle of Jack Daniels, he still was an excellent driver. The police had thought different, though, and had forced him out of his truck only to dump him at the house that was called his home. It was after that shocking event that Mrs. Puckerman became aware of the fact that her son had spun out of control. Her life had already been falling apart and she found herself unable to take care of her own flesh and blood anymore. The painful decision of letting him go and sending him off to Dalton Academy had seemed a wise one at the time, but secretly, the middle aged woman hadn't known for sure. The only thing she could do was hope for the best and that maybe one day the pieces of her life could get glued back together.

Puck didn't show any emotion when she told him. An indifferent shrug was his only response when his thoughts about people leaving him got confirmed. He had quickly pushed the hurt that had been starting to boil in his chest away to the deepest part of his mind again, where it belonged. His hazel eyes had turned dark and hollow since he had banished every possible emotion. It had probably been the thing that made the boys at Dalton Academy fear him the day that he arrived. After a week Puck's roommate had already requested another room, but the Mohawk'd man was fine with the extra space and privacy. Sharing a dorm was for pathetic losers who couldn't manage on their own anyway and Puck sure as hell didn't find himself belong in that category of people.

However, Puck's robust and carefree appearance also had a good side. It seemed that his classmates had soon figured to keep their new enemy closer than their own friends and after Puck had publically made fun of the principal everyone was envying him. His popularity grew and even though the badass knew that they only liked him out of fear, he had been satisfied with the turnout. At least it reassured him that he was going to be the one in control for the next four years and that was a nice thought for a change.

But after a month of not having received any physical satisfaction, the Puckasaurus decided to take a look into a world he had never thought of before. It seems needless to say that his flirtations also worked their charm on some of the boys at his new home and soon Puck was back on track with his occasional sexual endeavors. However, like it always had been, he wasn't interested in a romantic relationship and especially questions revolving around his sexuality by his one night lovers was something that could piss him off in a heartbeat. The Mohawk'd man had never been into labels and he sure wasn't going to change that, because, as stated before, he did what felt good to him. And what felt greater in the world than an orgasm, right?

Because of all those developments and with the new, profound easiness Puck strolled through his new life, which made junior year pass quickly. Summer vacation was knocking on the door of his private dorm and suddenly the tides turned. The little black box of emotions was drifting to the surface more often, because he had been obligated to watch all his classmates go home to be with their families. It were dark days for the Sex Shark, because he was forced to remember that he didn't have a family anymore. He was going to be alone forever and even though he would never admit it, that thought made him sad.

So when the September air started cutting the brown leaves off the old trees on campus, Puck had decided to lock up his broken soul a little further away. The past three months had made him realize that he was still able of feeling and that was unacceptable, so he made it his life goal to never feel anything again.

But in order to achieve that total numbness, Puck had found himself in need of some helpful resources which he needed to could trust to the fullest. The nicotine in cigarettes and the alcohol in drinks soon proved to be perfect for that job and that's how he soon was totally comfortable with himself. His relief grew when he noticed it had also only took him one weekend to find his new tools.

The Monday after that weekend was the official start of the new school year. The familiar faces of his classmates had returned and Puck was pleased to see that they were still fearing him to the fullest. After he had taken the last drag of his cigarette he walked back to his private dome. There was an introduction going on in the cafeteria of the Academy, but Puck wasn't allowed to come, referring to what happened the year before with the principal. So with his hands casually in the pockets of his trousers, he arrived at the door of his dorm only to find that it was already open. Suspicion and irritation showed on his face and he quickly walked inside to see who had been making the stupid mistake to break into his territory.

"Good morning, you must be my roommate. I…err…my name is Blaine. Blaine Anderson." The curly haired boy voiced, extending his hand politely. Puck took a moment to examine him for a moment and he picked up on the boy's nerves. "I am new at Dalton." He therefore added, obviously growing more uncomfortable by the second because of the silence. "I just arrived a couple of minutes ago. My parents dropped me off." Puck just continued staring, enjoying himself with the uneasiness that was radiating from the boy's body. "I promise I will not be a bother and I will not change anything in the room. I do not mind, either, because I am okay with almost everything you are okay with." Blaine was now wiggling on his heels nervously and his hand had been drawn back, only to hang loosely along his side, not knowing what to do with it. Then, Puck saw his eyes lit up as if he seemed to be understanding something. The air around him changed back to normal and the boy turned around silently. He continued unpacking his stuff from his suitcase, sometimes looking around the room as if he was searching for something. He carefully put away his clothes in the empty closet and when his eyes noticed that Puck's nightstand stood on the other side of the bed, he quickly moved his into the same place. The Mohawk'd guy just watched as the boy unpacked, trying to understand why it seemed like he wasn't fearing him.

Fifteen minutes later Puck was tired of guessing, so he scraped his throat to voice his question. "You should be scared of me, why aren't you?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at him.

Blaine turned around to look at him, his eyebrows crooking up as if he had just discovered something useful. "Do you want me to be scared of you?" He fired back before quickly adding: "Because I can do that."

Puck frowned at him and shook his head. The conversation was already boring him and he figured that it wouldn't matter anyway, since the boy would probably leave in a week, just like his roommate from last year. "Whatever, dude, suit yourself," he therefore responded with a quick wave of his hand as he attempted to walk over to the little fridge in his room.

However, the new one apparently was a fast one, because before Puck knew it, he was blocking his way. "No, wait! You have to tell me!" His sentence had been a demand, but the boldness of his voice told Puck the opposite.

"Why?" He frowned at him.

"Because I do not want to be a bother." Blaine answered honestly.

Puck snorted at him, apparently the kid _was_ scared of him. "Whatever." He decided to repeat himself.

Then the boy grabbed him by his arm, his eyes turning bigger and displaying utter desperation as he softy tugged on him. "Please?"

The boy with the Mohawk looked down at him with a deep frown on his face. He didn't quite understand what was going on and he already thought that his new roommate was retarded. "Just stay out of my way and you'll be fine."

Tears welled up in Blaine's eyes, but he then nodded affirmatively. "Okay. I will give it my best shot." He let go of Puck's arm and quickly stepped aside, his gaze averted to the carpet under his feet.

A deep sigh left Puck's mouth as he decided to stop trying to grasp on what was going on. The boy was weird to the bone and Puck really didn't want to take up the effort on figuring him out. He had other things to focus his valuable time and energy on.

And so he grabbed a beer from his fridge, oblivious to the fact that his new roommate was going to change his life.

* * *

_Blaine_

My parents are the most polite people you will ever meet. They give me everything I want, even though I sometimes don't know what that is. I think they are the best mom and dad in the world, but surprisingly, they aren't the people most special in my life.

"Cooper! I need help!" I yelled, aiming my childish voice towards the staircase. I was standing in my navy blue bedroom. My toys were carefully placed on their usual spot, because mom had taught me and my brother to always be tidy and decent. I think she mentioned something about first impressions, but I didn't know what that meant yet.

"What's wrong, little bro'?" I hadn't heard my brother getting upstairs. A smile grew on my face when I laid my dark eyes on him. Cooper was my everything. He always was so well collected and all the things he did were cool. I wanted to be just like him when I was his age.

"I do not know what clothes to wear." I looked up helplessly at him, noticing that he was wearing denim jeans and a white shirt. He exclaimed a soft chuckle at my problem.

"So that's why you're still in your undies, huh?" He grinned, poking my sides which made my body shock at the ticklish feeling. "But why are you having such a hard time? Just pick something!"

I felt how my eyes grew bigger as I turned back to the closet. My young body was tensing up and I knew I was getting nervous, since I was unable to choose. There were so many colors and so many sorts of clothing, how was I supposed to know that I was picking the right things? I didn't know, so I examined my brother again from head to toe, who was patiently waiting for me to get dressed. I sucked in my bottom lip and chewed on it anxiously before I noticed a white shirt on one of the hangers. I pulled on it and it fell down on my head, which made Cooper laugh and call me silly. I liked the sound of his laughter, especially when I knew I had caused it. He was my idol, so I liked knowing that I was pleasing him and that he didn't find me annoying. I was also glad that the choice of my shirt hadn't made him angry.

When I had put it on, I searched for denim colored pants. I found a pair, but unfortunately they were shorts, so I pouted as I pulled them on. When Cooper noticed my sad face he cocked his head to the side in confusion. "What's wrong, little one?"

I pursed my lips into a thin line while my gaze got pulled downwards. "They are not the same as yours. Yours are long." I mumbled while tears started to well up into my eyes.

Cooper chuckled at my sad behavior over nothing, which secretly hurt me, because I really was upset, but then again, I heard my big brother's laughter again so it was fine. "Well, that's okay, bro'. We don't have to look exactly the same."

Obviously he didn't understand.

"I wish we were twins." I muttered as a sob escaped my throat, completely ignoring my brother's sentence.

"Hey, don't cry, little one." Cooper had picked up that I was being serious, which made him ruffling my hair playfully. "Would it make you feel better if I was wearing shorts, too?"

A warm feeling washed over me and I wiped the tears from my eyes before looking up at him. "Yes!" I exclaimed in a relieved tone before I showed him a big, toothy grin.

Cooper went to his own room and I followed him, because I didn't know what to do anyway. I waited for him to change his pants and then walked over to him to look at us in his full view mirror. My head cocked to the side as I examined our appearances carefully. "We still do not look like each other." I thought out loud as I started noticing my flaws. My brother looked way more handsome than I did, even though we were almost wearing the same clothes. I let out a disappointed sigh when I realized I was just an ugly little person. Apparently, I had to work even harder if I really wanted to be like Cooper one day.

"Okay, I'm gonna go downstairs and have some breakfast." I heard my brother suddenly stating, already turning around to make his way towards the kitchen.

"Me too!" I voiced, quickly running after him.

The rest of the day we spent playing Cooper's, and therefore my, favorite video games. I literally lost every round, but I didn't mind, because it seemed as if the one I looked up to was having fun. Around five o'clock my mom came home and she shook her head playfully when she saw us wearing almost the same clothes. I happily giggled back at her when she made a comment about it, hoping that she was realizing how good I was trying to be.

"Coop, would you set the table?" My mother asked her oldest son when dinner was almost ready to be served. My brother put down the controller in his hand and he got up to perform the task he had just received. I didn't know why, but I started to feel scared when he left the living room, so I quickly followed him.

"I'll help!" I announced as I grabbed the plates from Cooper's hands.

It took me a year to finally realize that I probably wasn't going to be exactly like my big brother. I also didn't want to anymore, because I had figured out that I had confused my feelings. I still looked up to him and I still wanted to be around him all the time, though, but I didn't think of that as a bad thing. It was just that Cooper seemed to know everything and I found it hard to make my own choices, but he was always happy to help and do it for me. I thanked him a hundred times a day and when he turned eleven, I had made the prettiest drawing for him I had ever managed to produce and I proudly presented it to him.

"Happy birthday!" I congratulated him while he took the paper from my hand.

A smile formed on his face when he looked at it and I was excitedly hopping up and down next to him. "Thank you, Blaine, it's beautiful."

"No! No, you must not thank me! I wanted to thank you!" I was shaking my head vigorously to empower my words. "You're my everything, Cooper."

He smiled down at me and then my mom and dad announced their present to him. They were going to take us to a Theme Park next weekend and my big brother exclaimed something about it being the best present ever. Somehow, that comment stung me, but I pushed that feeling away when I saw that Cooper was really excited about it.

Three days later it was Saturday and me and my family got up early to go to the park. Cooper had been looking up the place on the internet and there were a couple of rides, especially roller coasters, that he wanted to go on. I followed him around the whole day and it felt nice having him near me all the time. However, the roller coasters he wanted to go on weren't for kids my age, so I soon wasn't allowed to go with him.

"Can I please go with you, Coop? I promise I will not be scared." I was showing him my biggest puppy dog eyes ever, but my brother still shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but you can't, little one," he told me before he quickly ran off. I pouted because I felt colder as I watched the distance grow between us. I turned around to my parents and a tear rolled down my cheek.

"Oh, come on, there's lots of other stuff you can do, Blaine," my dad spoke in an attempt to sooth me. "You can't be sad now, son, this is your brother's present."

I sniffed in response before I started crying uncontrollably. I didn't know exactly why, but I wouldn't quit sobbing, not even when my mother picked me up and rocked me back and forth in her arms.

"It's okay, baby," she shushed me, but I shook my head in disagreement.

"No! I'm scared!" I muttered in a loud, whining voice while I rubbed my little, balled fists against my eyes.

"But why?" she asked confused. "The rides are safe, I promise."

"He just needs to stay with me." I failed to explain.

I still remember the worried look my mom gave to my dad.


	2. Chapter 2 Gratitude

**I've got to be honest with you guys, I never update this soon. It's just that I'm so excited for this story myself, that I can't restrain myself. At the moment, I'm halfway through chapter 5, which contains a major realization and it kind of explains Blaine story. Anyway, I won't keep you guys any longer.**

**But please don't forget to review! It's like drugs to me. And, of course, as always,**

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter two**

Gratitude

_Puck_

The first week of the new school year had passed and Puck was surprised to find out that his new roommate was still there. If anything, it was even worse than that. The boy had soon found out that the Mohawk'd male was the most popular guy at the Academy and to Puck it seemed as if he was trying to get a taste of his glory. The badass was selfish and independent, though, so he really wasn't fond of the idea of a right hand and he even hated the idea of someone that was planning on stealing thunder.

"I'm going out for smoke," he stated before he got up from his bed. Blaine was reading some thick book about something that Puck could care less about, but the boy had been into it since the day he had arrived, so the hazel-eyed guy had figured it must be a good story in some way.

"Can I come?!" Blaine immediately looked up, hope displaying in his dark eyes.

Puck exclaimed a helpless groan. "Sure, dude, I really don't think I care," he answered as he put on his flip flops. He left their dorm with Blaine on his heels and Puck noticed that he had already gotten used to the sound of his footsteps behind him. Which actually should´ve freaked him out, because if you thought about it, Blaine was practically a stalker. The only thing that kept him from that title was that Puck knew who he was.

They got to the entrance of the building and Puck pushed the door open before he stepped outside. He searched for the pack in his pocket and lit up one of the cigarettes. Blaine was watching him curiously as he did so and Puck upped an eyebrow at him. The boy didn't seem to mind, though, because he didn't avert his gaze.

"Can I have one?" he suddenly asked.

Puck frowned at him. "You haven't smoked in a week and now you're going to tell me that you actually do?"

The curly haired one glanced away shyly, but then nodded confidently. Puck shrugged it off and offered him one, secretly dying to find out if this was going to be the boy's first time. He made a fire with his lighter and held it into the tip of the cigarette, the other end caught between Blaine's lips. The younger one took a cautious drag, held the smoke in his mouth for a moment and then parted his lips to let it flow out. Puck shook his head at him in judgment and turned towards him.

"You've gotta _inhale_ the smoke, smartass," he explained. "Like this." He took a drag from his own bad habit and sucked in a breath.

Blaine was now biting his lip nervously and nodded understandingly. He didn't say anything when he tried, but the nightly silence was broken by the sudden coughs that were leaving his throat. The cigarette dropped from his hand and Puck laughed as he put his foot on it.

"You're a liar, Anderson," he stated easily, showing him a not impressed look.

"Give me another, I will get used to it," Blaine responded.

Puck snorted at him. "No."

Suddenly the body of his new roommate was radiating uneasiness again and the Mohawk'd boy searched his appearance. Why was he getting uncomfortable again? No, wait, why did Puck even care? He shook the questions from his head and turned his gaze to the sky, noticing that the stars were literally clouded, so that he could only see Blaine from the corner of his eyes. Unfortunately, it was still enough to see that the boy's facial expression had dropped and when Puck was about to take his last drag, he heard a sniff. He rolled his eyes in annoyance and have him a disgusted look, not that Blaine could see, though, because he was examining the pavement under his feet. In some weird way, Puck wanted to ask him what was wrong, but he decided not to. He was still on his never ending quest to not let his life get fucked up by feelings, so he just started to walk back to his dorm.

The sound of the footsteps bounced against the walls as his roommate followed him and by the time they had gotten back to their domain, Puck's irritation level had hit the ceiling. And like always, he needed to blow off steam, so he let it out.

"Okay, seriously, what is your problem?" he asked when Blaine had shut the door.

"What do you mean, Noah?" the boy asked him back.

Puck's eyes widened when the boy pronounced his real name. "How the fuck do you know my name?" he exclaimed in slight discomfort. He had told everyone at Dalton that he was going by Puck.

"It said on your fake ID!" Blaine explained innocently. "Look! I got one, too!" He turned around to grab his wallet from his desk, searching for the white piece of plastic in it. He then proudly showed it to the older one.

Puck was on the edge of freaking out, but he quickly calmed himself down by taking a deep breath and closing his eyes for a brief moment. "Dude, that's fucking weird," he said. "Wait. Did you go through my stuff?!" He walked over to him, holding still right before his face as he threatened him.

"N-no! I…I just saw it on a-accident when you p-pulled out your wallet!" Blaine stuttered in defense, his face switched into shock.

"Whatever, dude, still doesn't explain how you're acting. It's starting to freak the fuck out of me," Puck continued his rant.

"I…I…" Blaine stammered, tears welling up in his eyes. "I am sorry…I-I just thought you would like me if I did…"

Puck rolled his eyes at him, but his body language settled down. "Why do you want me to like you?"

"Because I want us to be friends," Blaine explained, "you're popular. And cool. And tough. It feels safe to be around you." The tears had vanished from his eyes as quickly as they had appeared.

Puck frowned at him, but couldn't help to feel good about himself. Sure, it wasn't as if he didn't know those things about himself, but it was still nice to hear it from someone else. "Well, I guess that sounds legit." He shrugged, watching as Blaine cheered up.

"Does that mean we are friends?!" he asked desperately hopeful.

Puck shook his head before throwing his hands up in the air as to display that he was giving up. "Sure, dude, whatever."

"Yes! Thank you!" Blaine exclaimed, suddenly crashing his body into Puck's and wrapping his arms around his back. He buried his face into his broad chest and Puck could even hear a giggle leave his mouth.

The Mohawk'd boy blinked down at him, still not understanding how the curly haired one could switch moods so quickly. "You still mustn't annoy me, though."

Blaine pulled back and rapidly nodded his head. "I won't. I promise."

Puck sighed at him, suddenly noticing how cute Blaine actually looked when he was excited over something. He wasn't planning on starting to care for the boy, but it somehow felt nice to have someone around that apparently was looking up to him instead of fearing him. He sat down on his bed and Blaine quickly got beside him, which reminded Puck that his roommate was still one weird guy. "So, tell me, Anderson," he decided to start a conversation, "why did you tell me you smoked while you didn't?"

Blaine's cheeks reddened a little and he glanced away. "Well, you were doing it and it looked good on you, so I wanted to do it, too."

Puck nodded, his ego receiving another boost. "It's stupid to do things you don't like, though."

"Well, do you like smoking?"

"Yeah, kinda."

"Me too, then."

Puck frowned at him again, something he seemed to be doing a lot when he was around the younger one. "Anyway…I think Im'ma go to sleep."

Blaine yawned in response. "Yeah, I am pretty tired, too, dude."

Puck grinned at him. "You've never said 'dude' before."

The curly haired boy smiled happily back at him. "I know, but when you do it, it sounds so casual and all. I like that." He was absentmindedly slightly rocking his upper body back and forth.

"Are you gonna copy everything I do?" Puck asked curiously, but there was also some suspicion, the way he narrowed his eyes showed that.

"Do you want me to?" Blaine questioned him back.

Puck rolled his eyes at him. "I don't know, dude, suit yourself."

The boy next to him started playing with his own fingers. "Please tell me," he said, begging in his undertone. "I have to know."

"Dude, I told you, I don't know. I've never had anyone copying my every move!" Puck started to get frustrated again. Why did Blaine had to know every little thing for sure? And why was it always about stuff Puck had never thought about?

The boy with the curls sucked in his bottom lip, not knowing how to respond to his friend's outburst. Silence fell around them and after a while, Puck got up and started changing into the sweatpants he always slept in. "Get off my bed," he demanded indifferently, suddenly noticing the sound of rain slamming against the window.

Blaine didn't know how fast to get up and quickly started undressing himself. He took off his clothes and grabbed a t-shirt before he got under his covers. "Thank you," he whispered after Puck had turned off the lights.

"Whatever," sounded the muffled response of the Mohawk'd boy's.

Into the night the rain hadn't stopped and the room had been illuminated by flashes of lightning that were striking from the sky. The sound of thunder reached his ears and he focused on it, hoping that it would settle him down a little. The Mohawk'd man had never been bothered by storms, it had somehow always soothed him. So that sure wasn't the reason why he found himself unable to catch his sleep. His mind kept wandering off to his roommate, who apparently also wasn't able to take off towards dreamland, because Puck heard him turning and sighing every somewhat minutes. Full of frustration and with a clenched jaw, the older one tried to force his body to relax, which obviously wasn't helping. The fact that he couldn't figure out what was going on between him and his new friend was keeping him on the edge of exploding into a million of angry pieces. He couldn't stop thinking about him and their moments of interaction kept repeating themselves before his eyes. Somewhere it was tiring, but apparently not enough to actually make him fall asleep.

When he turned onto his other side – again -, he suddenly noticed a presence nearby his bed. His eyes shot open and he looked up into the nerves ones of Blaine.

"What?" he grumbled in annoyance, switching onto his back so that he wouldn't have to watch the boy.

"I cannot sleep," the curly haired one mumbled awkwardly.

"Yeah, so?"

"I do not know."

Puck's face twisted into a frown and he groaned, rubbing his face with the palm of his hands. "Do you want me to read you a story or something?"

"Would you?"

"No."

Puck saw the boy shivering slightly and his fingers were fumbling with the hem of his shirt. Puck noticed his adorableness again and when he heard the boy sniffing he could almost hear his own walls cracking. "What do you want from me, Blaine?" But he would be damned if he was going to give in to his sudden feelings of compassion.

"I am scared."

"I'm annoyed."

A trembling sigh left Blaine's mouth and it caused a painful sting to go through Puck's chest. "It's just a thunderstorm, you'll be fine."

"Well, if you say so…"

Puck watched as the boy attempted to go to his own bed, but then the room lit up again and thunder sounded immediately after it. The Academy was shaking on its foundation and Blaine cringed into a ball of fear onto the floor. For the second time Puck felt the significant ache in his ribcage and he was mentally punching himself when he heard his own words. "Do you want to get into bed with me?"

"Can I…?"

"No."

The Mohawk'd boy realized perfectly well that he was coming across as plain evil, because why would he have asked if he was going to reject him anyway? But the silent, internal war he was experiencing explained that. There was something pulling on his conscious, but he was fighting to not give into it. On the other hand, would it be that bad?

When a sob mixed with the sound of the rain, he knew he had lost the battle. With balled fists he yanked his covers off of him. "Get in. And don't talk."

"Really?"

"Shut up."

Puck had already screwed his eyes closed again when he heard Blaine scrabbling himself back onto his feet and he felt him slipping into the newly created spot next to him. Their shoulders were touching at first, but soon the younger one turned onto his side, facing the badass. Puck restrained himself from looking back at him, secretly finding himself a little curious to see if Blaine had already fallen asleep. But he had gotten his answer when he felt a cold hand wrapping around his bicep and tugging on his limb.

"Thank you." Relief was carefully weaved through Blaine's words.

Puck mumbled something inaudible that sure wasn't a 'you're welcome', but Blaine still pulled Puck's arm close to his upper body and cuddled around it. He buried his cheek into his shoulder and the hazel-eyed boy shook his head enigmatically.

* * *

_Blaine_

There's one night in my life I will probably ever forget. I was eight and me and my family had just finished dinner. I was doing quite okay, nothing special, honestly, and left the table when Cooper did, as always. He went up to his room and I followed him enthusiastically, because I thought that we were going to grab his big box of Lego's and built an awesome city. Later, I would grab my dinosaurs and we would fight against each other as our creatures would crash into our malls and houses. It was pretty cool.

"I'm sorry, little one, we can't play tonight," my brother explained when I cocked my head in confusion as I saw him turning towards the bathroom, instead of his bedroom. He grabbed his gel and started to put his dark brown hair into shape while he studied himself up close in the mirror.

"Why not?" I actually was shocked when I figured that he might not be with me that night.

"Because I'm going out with friends." The casual way he said it would probably have meant that it wasn't a big deal, but it was to me. The inner ends of my eyebrows crooked downwards and I pursed my bottom lip forward.

"Can I come with?" My question was filled with hope.

"Why are you sounding so desperate?" Cooper now turned to look at me and he studied my appearance. When he noticed my pouting lip he walked up to me and ruffled my hair. "We'll play tomorrow, I promise."

"But I need you _tonight_," I voiced demandingly.

"What's so special about tonight?" I saw the confusion in his eyes.

"Nothing. I always need you." I shrugged innocently, not seeing any bad in my own feelings.

"I know, bro', but sometimes I need time for myself," my brother tried to explain.

"But you can have time for yourself!" I exclaimed, suddenly seeing a possible mid-way by which I would still receive what I wanted. "You will not even notice I am there!"

My small chest hurt when Cooper's laughter echoed into my ears. "You're silly, Blaine," he chuckled, messing up my curls again. He then walked past me and down the stairs again. I hesitated no moment to run after him towards the front door. I heard him yell to my parents that he was going out and after his announcement, my screaming and desperate 'no' had alarmed them. I quickly stopped the door from closing and saw Cooper leaving our front yard, but when I reached the fence, two strong hands wrapped firmly around my waist and picked me up. I recognized them as my father's and I kicked into the the August air beneath me.

"Let me go!" I whined, feeling how a lump already started to form in my throat.

"It's fine, Blaine, Cooper's gonna come back." My dad's words sounded soothing, but they didn't help at all. I started to get cold again and with big eyes I watched the world around me turning darker. My old man took me back into the house and when my mom had locked the door shut, he put me back onto the ground again. I threw them an angry and upset look before I stormed off to my room. I still remember how it felt to have my heart wrapped up in fear and when my stomach hit the mattress and my face the pillow, I started crying. The fabric of my cushion started to get wet, but I didn't care. My shoulders just couldn't stop shaking and there wasn't anything that could comfort me.

An hour or two later my mom came upstairs and entered my bedroom. By that time my crying had turned into soft sobs and my back was resting against the headboard of my bed as I had my legs pulled up to my chest. My bloodshot eyes looked up at her and she presented me with one of those warm smiles that only mothers could muster. I shook my head at her, not taking the soothing gesture.

"It's time for bed, sweetie," she announced with such easiness in her voice that made me wonder for a split second if she might had gone blind in the past minute.

"I want to wait until Cooper gets home," I muttered, resting my forehead on top of my knees again.

"He'll be home soon, Blaine, you'll see him again tomorrow." I picked up on the slight frustration that was sounding on the background of her voice.

I felt myself getting mad at her, but I didn't want to disobey her, so I started changing into my pajamas as slowly as I could, still hoping that I would suddenly hear the sound of the front door opening. It didn't happen, though, and my mother didn't leave my room until I was safely under my Harry Potter quilt.

Apparently my body had gotten tired from all the crying, because I soon drifted off into a light sleep. My young mind was just about to generate a dream when I woke up to the sound of footsteps on the first floor. I turned and listened carefully to where they would go and when I heard them tiptoeing into the room next to mine, I rolled out of bed. Twenty seconds later I was standing before the closed door of my brother's bedroom and I opened it slowly. I saw him lying on his bed with his laptop on his stomach and I silently strolled over to him. He picked up on me and he turned his head to look at me. "Hey, little guy, you still up, huh?" The question was rhetorical.

I nodded at him with a broken look in my dark eyes and I debated if I should tell him how much he had upset me by leaving me, but the optional outcome that contained him getting mad at me or, even worse, leave me again, kept me from coming up with it. So, without saying a word, I hopped up onto his bed and sat down crossed legged.

"You should sleep. It's already past midnight," Cooper told me.

I shook my head in response, a smile displaying on my face since the coldness had left my body. Then, an idea came to my mind and I excitedly wiggled my toes.

"Can I sleep here?" I questioned, showing him my puppy dog eyes.

"Why?" he asked, although my proposition hadn't been uncommon. I had spent a lot of nights in Cooper's room, honestly. Either from playing with our toys all night long or just because I wanted to.

"I like sleeping with you." I didn't realize by then how wrong my sentence sounded, so I frowned when my brother let out a soft chuckle.

"Well…" He gained a look on his face as if he was deeply thinking about it. "…Okay."

An intense feeling of relief broke loose inside my chest and I set off to excitedly jump on top of him. "Thanks!" I voiced my gratitude, giving him a tight hug. My smile grew even wider when Cooper ruffled my hair in the way he always did. He then closed his laptop and put it onto his nightstand while I crawled under the covers of his bed. He laid down, too, and even though our bodies weren't touching, I could still feel the comfortable heath that his body was radiating. My eyes closed and with a small, childish grin on my face I fell into a deep and dreamful sleep.

The next morning I woke up early to the sound of soft snores that were leaving my brother's nose. I smirked and sat up onto his bed, wondering if I should get out and play with some of the toys that were in his room. However, none of them seemed to attract me and I sighed when I realized that there wasn't anything I wanted to do. I turned my head towards my brother and as clouds that vanished from the sky, I knew what was going to keep me busy for the next few hours. I settled myself down onto my side and blinked innocently at Cooper's face as I watched him sleep. He looked peaceful, safe and I studied his features. I didn't know what it meant that I wanted to do that until he would wake up, but I didn't question it either. As for as my eight year-old mind was concerned, I was just acting like any other kid.

My thoughts trailed off to my friends at school and I tried to come up with every one of them who had siblings. Most of them said that their younger brother or sister annoyed them, but the words of the ones with older siblings had always been lovingly. I smiled at myself, because the realization had convinced me that I must have been normal.

But then the fact that I was the younger brother to Cooper came to mind. I sucked in my bottom lip, wondering if it might be true that I was irritating to him, too. I was always the one thanking him, but I had almost never heard him use those words towards me. I frowned as I chewed onto the red skin that was caught between my teeth. My head was soon racing with thoughts on how it could be that he had rarely showed any gratitude towards me.

I slammed my own forehead when it finally hit me. My brother did find me annoying and had nothing to be thankful for, because I hadn't done anything for him. A boost of energy shot through my body and I jumped out of bed as silently as I could manage. I tiptoed out of Cooper's bedroom and made my way downstairs, towards the kitchen. My hands opened some cabinets and I started to grab some stuff together as I tried to fix up a breakfast for the most special person in my life. I knew my parents would get mad if they'd find out that I had used the oven, but I figured it was worth it.

About half an hour later I finished and I carefully took the tray full of sweet breakfast goods upstairs. My hands were trembling slightly because it was heavy, but with the tip of my tongue pursed through my parted lips I managed to get it to his bedroom. I grinned when I saw he was already awake and I think I will never forget the surprised look on his face when he noticed what I had managed to come up with. I cautiously put down the tray onto his lap and he smiled down at me.

Then, his lips turned to form the words I wanted to hear so badly. "Ah, thanks, little guy!" I could easily see how much I had pleased him. "What made you do all this?"

"I wanted to make sure that I would never lose you."


	3. Chapter 3 Mind if I care?

**Hey there! Thank you for the reviews and I would like to point something out. This is, indeed, a Plaine fanfiction, but the Blaine/Cooper is important for Blaine's story line. It isn't about his relationship with Cooper, but about the way Blaine goes around with him. Anyway, you'll find out in chapter 5. ;p**

**For now, don't forget to review and please, just please,**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter three**

Mind if I care?

_Puck_

Two weeks later the following was still going on, but Puck had actually started to grow comfortable with it. Somehow, the night with the thunderstorm had forced the Mohawk'd boy to feel at least some sort of sympathy for his new friend. The nagging voice inside his head was still trying to tell him that he was being a fool for letting Blaine get close to him, but had tried not to listen. It was weird how he seemed to be fighting against himself, but it was also kind of logical. You see, Puck had agreed with himself on not let him be controlled by emotions anymore, but he was still convinced that he should give in to the things that felt right to him. That was how he realized that his visions and the ways he should act bumped into each other. It were the two things that the badass could find himself in, but as two positives magnets, they wouldn't click together.

Nonetheless, it was good that Puck realized that, because it meant that he could solve the problem. He just had to get rid of Blaine for a certain amount of time so that he could work things out. Because even though the Mohawk'd guy still didn't understand what his roommate's deal was, he was finding himself unable to concentrate every time he was near him, which was all the time. It was weird how Puck's world would suddenly revolve around Blaine's well being and how there was something inside of him craving for him to figure the boy out, because it wasn't Puck's style. Over the last year he hadn't practically cared over anyone, so what did the curly haired one have on him that that would change so all of a sudden?

Yes, Noah Puckerman sure needed some quality time on his own and he was about to get it. Or at least he intended to.

"I'm going out for a while," he announced as he was walking down the corridor with Blaine on his heels. Their last class had just ended and Puck was dying to solve his issues and get rid of the pestering voice inside of his head.

"Okay. I will come with," Blaine smiled back, ignorant to the fact that his popular friend might be wanting some time on his own.

"No. I wanna be alone." Puck made sure to sound like there wasn't a chance for Blaine to change his mind, which there really wasn't. He got to their dorm and he quickly started changing out of his Dalton uniform.

"Please? I promise I will not be a bother," Blaine almost begged him.

"No."

"Pretty please?"

Puck groaned at the puppy dog look that his roommate was giving him. He wasn't in the mood to keep arguing about it, but when he reached out for the doorknob, a familiar grip around his upper arm made him turn around. Blaine's eyes were displaying utter sadness and Puck rolled his eyes in annoyance. "I'm serious, Blaine, I wanna be alone."

"But..." The sentence didn't get finished as the boy in front of averted his gaze to the ground. It hadn't taken Puck long to figure out already what was about to come and after a couple of seconds he heard the expected sniffing of someone that was close to crying.

The Mohawk'd guy also knew by now that that moment was his chance into getting away, so he quickly grabbed the only key to their dorm and yanked the door shut when he was out in the hallway. Maybe locking Blaine up had been a tad extreme, but it showed how desperate Puck was to go and figure himself out. When Blaine finally realized what was going on, Puck had already left the building, slightly ever so glad that he couldn't hear the curly haired one bouncing on the door angrily. Puck chuckled at himself, nah, that probably was a little too insane, even for Blaine. A sigh of relief slipped past the badass' lips when he realized he was finally alone again. And as he walked off campus, he actually started to remember how long it had been for him. It was fucking ridiculous, now that he thought about it. The younger one had been around him the entire time since the day he had arrived. Hell, it was a fucking miracle that he hadn't proposed to hold Puck's dick when he needed to go to the bathroom. Then again, Blaine would be leaning against the doorpost, patiently waiting for him to come back out.

He searched for his cigarettes in his pants' pockets. When he found he lit one up and deeply inhaled the nicotine. He blew out the smoke after a short moment of holding the poisonous air in his lungs, already feeling himself relax. He needed to keep Blaine off his mind for the next hours since he needed every part of his small brain to focus on what he wanted to do with his life. He knew that he had to change something in the way he was going around with himself, but it was a hard decision to make.

On one hand was his fun. The careless feeling he would get when he did something that made people's eyes grow wider in shock and fear. But those were feelings and the Puckerman knew perfectly well how such things could mess with a person. He was sure he didn't want that anymore, but not being to at least have fun anymore? Holy shit, what if he would shut down his emotions that far that he even wouldn't be able to experience an orgasm anymore? That would be fucking awful.

He shivered at the thought, absentmindedly giving his groin a gentle stroke through his black jeans. Why couldn't his life be simple for just fucking once? He mentally groaned at himself when he picked up on his need for alcohol. Maybe a nice beer would settle him down. Or a bottle Tequila. He chuckled at himself as he shook his head playfully. At least he was still sure that he didn't care about most things.

_Except for Blaine._

Yup, beer. He really needed beer.

A small café appeared in Puck's face and he soon made his way inside, ordering half a liter at the bar and sitting down on a stool. The bartender put the glass in front of him and Puck took a couple of big chugs. His throat made a satisfied sound when the cool, tingling downed his body and the Mohawk'd guy's thoughts went back to his sorrows.

It seemed clear to him that he certainly didn't want to give up on all of his feelings, but just the hurtful ones. Shame, regret, sadness, grief, those were the emotions that he wanted to shut out. Only question was if caring belonged to that category, too. In some ways, caring about people was a good thing. He didn't know why, but that's what people always said. But not caring was awesome, too since it blocked a way for the bad feelings to get through.

This was ridiculous. Why was he even questioning himself? He had already made his decision, uncaring definitely was the way to go. He had always gone around that way, so why change that? It worked perfectly well for him.

Happily, Puck chugged his beer and ordered another. He was just going to continue shutting out half of his feelings and his main concern was making sure that he was having careless fun.

Two hours and five drinks later, the Mohawk'd guy decided it was to time to return home. He strolled down the street, making his way back to Dalton Academy. It was already dark outside and Puck enjoyed the blurry lights of the streets. In reality, they were pretty clear, but the badass' vision wasn't able to pick up on that anymore. His body had absorbed the alcohol pretty well and it was now pumping around in his veins, numbing Puck's senses. The only thing he could physically feel was the grin that was pulling onto the edges of his mouth. He set foot onto the campus' grounds and bounced up the stairs towards his dorm, curious to find out what Blaine 'The Imprisoned' had been doing while he was out. Secretly hoping that the boy wouldn't have killed himself – because one never knew for sure with Blaine -, he struggled to get his key into the keyhole. He giggled at himself and exclaimed a victory yell when he had finally managed to get it in. He stepped inside and threw the door shut, noticing that Blaine wasn't inside. Puck cocked his head in confusion and scratched his Mohawk. Well, this was weird, he was sure that there wasn't a second key to their room.

His eyes suddenly noticed the moving curtains and he walked up to them. A wave of shock flushed over him when he saw that the window was fully opened. Did Blaine…? No. But Puck could feel himself slowly getting scared. He didn't dare to look outside, because what if his roommate actually _had_… No. He sucked in a deep breath and moved his head towards the open space. He swallowed his dry throat before he looked down. No one there. Relieved, Puck got back inside and slammed the window shut with a loud thud.

"Who's there?" A scared, familiar voice suddenly sounded.

"Blaine?" Puck turned his head to where it was coming from. "What the fuck are you doing in the bathroom?" He could hear his own voice slurring.

The door unlocked and the boy peeked around the corner. When he recognized Puck his throat squeaked and he quickly crashed into him. The Mohawk'd boy's legs were unstable, though, and the force wherewithal Blaine hugged him, caused him to get knocked over. His back landed onto the floor, along with the back of his head, with his roommate half on top of him. Puck groaned, but the pain left his body quickly, because – luckily – he was intoxicated. "What the hell, dude?"

Blaine lifted his head off Puck's chest and grinned at him, but his eyes were red and puffy. Puck frowned worriedly down at him. "Have you been crying?"

That's when the younger one realized and he quickly wiped his eyes. "No…" The answer didn't sound reassuring enough.

"Come on, dude, what's wrong?" The alcohol was slowing down Puck's processing skills, but he didn't think of realize, making him not pick up on the fact that he was actually caring about his friend.

Blaine glanced away uncomfortably. "I do not want to tell you. You will probably get mad and leave me again."

Puck frowned offended at him. "Dude, that's not fair. You can't be with me all the time," he heard himself respond.

Silence fell around them and Puck had actually already forgotten about his question when Blaine's words filled the air after a while. "I was scared…" His voice was barely a whisper.

The atmosphere turned more intimate and it made a warm feeling evaporate somewhere in Puck's body. Therefore, he wrapped his arms around the younger one, who was still lying on top of him. "Well, I'm here now," he said in an actual soothing tone. He felt Blaine's body release its tension and the boy laid his cheek on Puck's ribcage. A sigh sounded through his nostrils and the Mohawk'd guy noticed how comfortable he was, even though they were still on the floor. His hands were softly rubbing Blaine's back absentmindedly and the beverages he had been drinking that evening made every stroke feel more intense. Blaine's body shivered a couple of times when Puck's fingers grazed against a spot on his body where he was ticklish.

Their embrace lasted, just like Puck's obliviousness.

* * *

_Blaine_

I started noticing how Cooper would lock himself up in his room more often. We wouldn't play as frequently as we did and it slowly freaked me out. Every night I would wonder what he was doing behind his closed door and the dark circles under my eyes betrayed the sleepless nights I had been having because of it. My parents had noticed them, too, and that's when the whispers began. I would get up late at night and walk to the bathroom to get a sip of water. I didn't realize by then that the reason for my dry throat was because of my worrying. Anyway, I would walk down the hallway, which was slightly illuminated by the light coming from my parent's bedroom, quietly. I would hold still and listen to the soft, concerned questions of from mom and the deep, indifferent answers from my dad. I never could quite hear what they were talking about, though, I just took it that it had to be something important and upsetting, since they hadn't talked to me about it.

So, three months after Cooper started to act differently, my parents were apparently keeping a secret, too. I started to feel shut out and it scared the crap out of me, but on one peaceful, Sunday afternoon one of my uncertainties was taken away.

"Mom, dad, what would you say if I told you that I want to have an acting or singing career?" Cooper's question sounded.

I was silently reading my book, but looked up when I heard the start of a conversation. I cocked my head to the side a little, focusing my ears on what was about come.

"Why do you ask?" my mother asked back.

"Well, I've always liked those things and I've been interested in it a long time now. I've sang almost two hours a day since the past coupled months and last week at school one of my teacher accidently overheard me and she said that I was really good." Suddenly I understood what Cooper had been doing in his room all the time, but I still didn't get why he hadn't want me there.

"You do know that you have to be more than just good at it to actually make a living out of it one day, right, son?" My father had joined the conversation about my brother's future.

"Yes, dad, I know, but weren't you the one that always told us to do something we're passionate about?" My jaw dropped a little in astonishment as I heard Cooper use my dad's words against himself. He must have thought about this talk beforehand. I watched him proudly and then glanced over to my parents, who were seeming to process my big brother's words.

"That's right," my father admitted, "but I still want you to realize how hard you'll have to work if you really want this."

"I do really want this, dad."

"Well, what are you going to do? Are you going to be taking classes?" It was obvious that my dad was trying to see how dedicated Cooper was to his new plan.

"I will finish High School, of course, and there's this amazing college in Los Angeles. I'm honestly thinking about going there. Their courses are very high rated and I think it would be a great start."

My father nodded silently at him and my mother gained a little, satisfied smile on her face. In that moment, I knew that Cooper had convinced them. But then his words about moving to L.A. one day echoed in my mind. That meant that he would be leaving one day.

"I am going to be a singer, too!" I jumped up from my seat, confidently sucking in breath so that my ten year-old chest stood upped and forward.

Cooper groaned and slammed his own forehead. I shot him a confused look and cocked my head a little. "What?" I asked offended.

"Nothing, little one. I'm just gonna go to my room," he lightly shrugged it off, turning towards my parents, "mom, dad, I would like it if we'll continue this conversation later."

They nodded smilingly at the maturity my brother was speaking his words.

"Okay! I'll come with you! I can hear you sing!" I was bouncing on the balls of my feet excitedly.

"No, Blaine, I don't want you there." It had been the first time that I heard such harshness in his voice.

"But why not?" Tears were already welling up in my eyes and I pouted sadly.

"Because you copy everything I do, Blaine!" My face turned into shock when I noticed his balled fists and the way he was clenching his jaw. The thing I had feared so much had happened, my big brother was mad at me. A sob escaped my throat as I stared him directly into his eyes, but he wasn't caving. I had really pissed him off and probably lost him forever. That thought upset me so much that I quickly ran up to my room, leaving my mom with a sad look on her face and my dad with an apologizing one, as if there had suddenly turned something clear to them.

I let myself fall onto my bed and started crying while my little head was racing with thoughts. My big brother didn't want me anymore, but I still needed him. I wouldn't survive if he wasn't in my life, so I came up with an idea.

I jumped off the mattress and walked over to the mirror that was stuck against the closet door. I stared into my own puffy eyes and took a couple of deep breaths as I tried to settle myself down. When I decided I was calm enough, I turned to the stereo in my room and put in my favorite CD. Soon, the first song started playing and I closed my eyes. Then, my mouth opened and I tried to voice the same chords and lyrics with my vocal cords. I had always been good at mathematics, so I had soon figured out that, since Cooper had three months ahead of me, I had to sing six hours a day if I wanted to catch up with him. I had to be just as good if I wanted to follow in his footsteps and with that have the biggest chance to keep him in my life. Also, I would need to do something that would blow his mind right into amazement, so that he never wanted to leave me. It had to be something special, something that showed how much I needed him.

My creative mind started coming up with ideas.


	4. Chapter 4 Last resorts

**Thank you for your lovely reviews. I appreciate the effort very much, so please keep them coming!**

**I'll keep it short, just make sure to**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Last resorts

_Puck_

At first, Puck really didn't understand how he had been able to manage to sleep on the floor with Blaine on top of him, but when he sat up his head started throbbing, forcing him to remember that he had been out drinking, which explained. Blaine, however, was peacefully nuzzled around his arm and didn't seem to mind at all. The Mohawk'd boy sighed and turned his head towards the alarm clock on his nightstand. He rubbed his eyes from their sleep and focused them, realizing that they had already missed their first three classes, so he decided that he would give himself a day off.

Now he just needed some aspirin. He looked down at the still sleeping Blaine and rolled his eyes. If only the boy would let go of his arm. Puck tried to move and release himself from the death grip, but it turned out that the smaller one was stronger than he appeared.

"Blaine," he voiced his name in an attempt to wake him up, but failed. "Blaine," he tried again. The boy just mumbled something in response. Puck pursed his lips before scraping his throat. "Blaine!" he now shouted.

"Huh?" the boy shocked awake and the Mohawk'd guy quickly retrieved his arm.

"Nothing. I just wanted to get up," Puck shrugged, getting on his feet.

"What time is it?" Blaine muttered questioningly.

"Too late for class."

"Are you still going to go?"

"No."

"Me neither, then."

Puck saw himself rolling his eyes in the bathroom mirror. He opened a cabinet and searched for the little white pills that would numb his headache. With an internal groan he downed one of them with some water and then returned back to the room, this time to lay down on his bed. Blaine scrambled up and sat down at the end of his feet.

"Why do you want to be near me all the time?" Puck asked as he watched the boy pulling up his legs to his chest and resting his chin on his knees.

"I don't know." He shrugged.

Puck upped one of his eyebrows at him. "Why not?"

Another nothing telling shrug.

"Whatever."

They sat in silence for a while, Puck's gaze towards the ceiling and Blaine's towards him. Apparently, Puck's body was regaining strength, because he felt how his morning wood started to act up. He shifted uncomfortably and tried to remember the last time he had had sex. Shocked by the discovery that he hadn't been getting any since the beginning of the new school year, he searched for his phone to contact one of his hookups. Maybe they would still be interested.

"What are you doing?" Blaine asked as he noticed the focused frown on Puck's face, curiously crawling over to lay down next to him.

"Nothing."

"It does not seem like nothing."

Puck sighed and laid his phone on top of his chest, screen down, of course. He turned his head to Blaine and examined his appearance. His curls were a little messy and he still seemed a little sleepy. It actually made him look kind of cute and attractive and a smirk appeared on Puck's face when he decided to have a little fun with the boy. He wasn't planning on having sex with him, though, which was surprising and some sort of a miracle.

"If I ask you something, would you answer honestly?" he decided to start off casually.

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes."

Blaine blinked curiously at him. "How far are you, sexually?" Puck asked before putting his phone away and turning on his side, his arm supporting his head.

The younger one's dark eyes turned wider and he shifted uncomfortably. "Nowhere…I think…"

"Really?!" Puck gaped at him, "not even kissed someone?"

He could see that Blaine was getting nervous and he enjoyed every bit of it. "Well…?"

The smaller one's cheeks reddened and he glanced away shyly. Then, he shook his head silently.

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

"You don't really know much, do you?"

Shrug.

Puck continued staring at his roommate, who was trying desperately to avert his gaze. His awkwardness had something adorable and Puck grinned at him.

"Have you ever liked a girl?" He then asked.

"Do you like girls?"

"Yes. And boys."

Blaine stared at him in disbelief, but then seemed to grab himself back together. "Me too."

Puck frowned at him. "How do you know? You haven't even kissed someone yet."

His friend sucked in his bottom lip and started chewing on it nervously. There never came a respond and Puck started to think that the boy wasn't uncomfortable by the sex talk, but maybe because he didn't know what he wanted. Coming to think of it…Blaine never seemed to know what he wanted except for the times when he knew what Puck liked. The Mohawk'd guy decided to put his speculation to the test.

"Do you want to play a game?" he asked ever so innocently, but the devious look in his eyes gave him away. Not that Blaine picked up on that, though.

"Do you want to?"

"Yes."

"Okay then, what kind of game?" Curiosity was dripping from his appearance again.

"Just a random game. I give you two options and you choose the one that most appeals to you," Puck explained, staring directly into his eyes.

Blaine gulped but still nodded understandingly.

"Okay. Red or blue?"

A deep frown took hold of the boy's facial expression as he started thinking, but Puck was an impatient man.

"Summer or winter?"

The boy shrugged, chewing on his lip again.

"Coffee or tea?"

Silence.

"Boys or girls?"

"..."

"Friends or family?"

When the boy still hadn't voiced a choice, Puck knew his speculations had been right. Just one more question and he would be sure.

"Beer or vodka?"

"Oh!" Blaine's face lit up in relief. "I know this one! Beer!"

Score. Game over. It was now clear to Puck that the boy didn't really have an opinion, he just liked what Puck liked. Satisfied with how smart he was being, the Mohawk'd boy returned to lying on his back. After a while, he figured he was having a little too much fun with it, so he decided to add a little more oil to the fire.

"Why don't you know what you like?" he asked, locking gaze with Blaine, who quickly averted his eyes when he heard the question.

"I do not know…" he answered softly, "I…I, err…"

"Yes?" Puck sounded expectantly.

Blaine swallowed and his voice cracked a little. "I am scared that I will say the wrong thing."

"There isn't a wrong nor a right, Blaine, it's about what _you_ like."

The curly haired one shrugged again before his fingers started fumbling with his shirt.

"Come on, dude, tell me!" Puck pushed teasingly, "blond or brown?"

"I don't know…"

"Europe or Asia?"

"I…"

"Hard or soft?"

"Stop…"

"Black or white?"

"Noah, please…"

"Google Chrome or Internet Explorer?"

"Please, stop."

"Paris or New York?"

"Knock it off!" The boy now yelled and suddenly Puck noticed how his chest was heaving and that he was panting. His breathing started to hitch in his throat and he turned paler by the second. Puck frowned at him, but then realized that the younger one had started to panic.

"Dude, calm down, I was just messing around," Puck said, not knowing what to do.

"I…cannot…breathe…" Blaine managed to voice with a scared look in his eyes.

"Whoa! Take it easy, bro. It's gonna be alright," Puck tried again, resting a hand on his shoulder and starting to massage the muscles under his fingers. Blaine gulped and tried to catch his breath, but his heart was pounding so rapidly that it made him think that his organs were in need of oxygen, which wasn't true.

Out of nowhere, a thing from what he had learned from health class last year suddenly came to Puck's mind. He placed his hands on the back of Blaine's and moved their palms over his nose and mouth. "Relax." Surprisingly, the word left his mouth in a more soothing than a demanding tone. "Breathe in…and out." He chanted softly, while his thumbs were brushing over Blaine's knuckles. "Inhale. Exhale."

After a minute or five, Puck noticed how his roommate's body started to calm down. The fear from his eyes was vanishing and his ribcage was moving normally again.

"Dude, I didn't want to freak you out," the Mohawk'd guy said after he was sure that Blaine was feeling comfortable.

"I know. I am sorry. I do not know what happened," the boy apologized, not daring to look at him.

"It's fine. It was my fault," Puck soothed him. He didn't know why he moved his hand to ruffle the boy's hair, but he had somehow given in to the impulse. Blaine's face lit up and a big, goofy smile appeared on his lips. Apparently the hazel-eyed boy had found a trigger or something. A happy sigh grazed Puck's cheek and it made him smile back at him.

"You are one weird dude, Anderson," he then joked, shaking his head playfully. Blaine giggled softly before he shrugged it off.

"You still have not told me what you were doing on your phone," Blaine said after a moment of silence.

"You really wanna know?" Puck asked for reassurance, knowing how awkward Blaine had been during their small conversation about sex earlier.

"Yes, please."

"Okay," Puck decided loosely, "I was texting some of my occasional hookups."

Blaine's eyes widened and he looked adorably startled.

"Yup." The older one grinned. "I wanted to get laid, so yeah."

The smaller boy grinded his teeth into his bottom lip. "So you'll be leaving again?" He sounded disappointed.

"Well duh! I'm not gonna do it with you in the room," Puck laughed.

Blaine cringed into a ball for a moment, but then got up. "I…err…I could be your hookup."

Now it was Puck's turn to look startled. He surely hadn't seen that one coming. He arched his brow at his roommate and snorted. "You?"

"Yeah! I…I want you to fuck me," Blaine tried to sound confident.

"Oh, come on," Puck scowled.

"What? I know you want me." The younger one shot him a seductive look and it actually was convincing enough to make Puck debate the option for a split second.

"You really want me to have sex with you?"

"…Y-yes."

"Okay. Kiss me, then," Puck dared him, starting to get a little excited.

Blaine hesitated for a moment but then moved his head towards Puck's, who was staring directly into his eyes. Their lips were only inches away from each other when Puck suddenly saw a flash of discomfort going through his friend's eyes. It actually made his stomach churn and he quickly turned his head.

"What…?" Blaine asked, fear weaved through his voice.

It made Puck look back at him and he saw the nervousness and awkwardness on the boy's face again. Something changed inside of him and he showed him a gentle smile. "Nothing. C'mere." Blaine's body was practically radiating confusion and fear, but when Puck wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, he rested his head onto his broad chest.

The whole situation seemed weird to Puck, because he had never cared about anyone else's feelings, but noticing that Blaine had been about to do something that he actually didn't want to do would've probably made him feel bad about himself. Sure, Puck liked sex, but he wasn't a rapist or something. And he would never take advantage of someone's vulnerability.

So he straddled his fingers alongside the muscles on Blaine's back before tightening his embrace softly. A comfortable sigh sounded through the room and it had been released by the younger one's lungs. In that moment, Puck vowed to himself that he wouldn't question his caring for the boy ever again. He had decided to do what felt right to him and, to be perfectly honest, having Blaine that close to him didn't even feel somewhere _close_ to wrong.

* * *

_Blaine_

Two years later, my singing had improved immensely, but there had still been no change in the distance between me and Cooper. He would still lock himself in his room after school and sometimes his short responses would scare me to death. Still, I would've never thought that there were going to be more whispering and more question marks in my life. My parents didn't leave me out of sight when I was near my brother and it started to make me feel like an ex-con or something.

On one Sunday night, I was lying awake in my bed over thinking every little thing again, until I heard the front door open and the familiar footsteps from my brother, who came home. Ever since he had turned eighteen, he was going out way more often and I didn't like it at all. The reason for that wasn't because he was probably having fun without me, but because I would always end up alone for the rest of the evening. But on that particular night, my fear had gotten the best of me again and after a certain amount of helpless crying, I decided to go downstairs. He would always grab something to drink before he would go to bed anyway.

Barefooted I sneaked down the stairs and entered the living room. I saw Cooper sitting on the couch, feet on the coffee table and a coke in his hand, as expected. He turned to look at me and he started grinning like an idiot. Something inside me lit up, but I didn't understand why he suddenly had been so happy to see me. It's not like a twelve year-old knew about the concept of alcohol and drunkenness, you know.

"Hey, little one," he greeted me, tapping the spot on the couch next to him, inviting me to come sit with him. I shot him a quick wave, the end of my sleeve following the motions of my hand since it was too long. I hopped down beside him and examined him curiously, debating if I should ask why he had been so distant with me lately. I didn't have the guts, though, because I was scared that I would make it worse. I'd better use the opportunity to please him, because maybe that would change his mind and force him to go back into liking me again.

"Did you have fun tonight?" I therefore asked interested.

"Oh, yes, I've had a _lot_ of fun," Cooper answered in a mysterious tone.

I cocked my head to the side in confusion and wondered what he could possibly be referring to. "What did you do?" I decided to just ask.

"Promise you won't tell anyone?" My brother's voice had been toned down a notch and I scooted a little closer, excited that he was probably going to tell me a secret.

"Pinky promise!" I swore.

"Well…okay then," Cooper said after the thoughtful look had disappeared from his face. He moved his head down, closer to mine, and my heart pounded inside my chest for what was about to come, adrenaline pumping through my veins.

"I had sex."

I swear I could feel my jaw hitting the wooden floor at the confession. I gaped at him for minutes, without saying a word and my big brother just chuckled at me.

"Sex?!" I repeated the dirty word after a while.

"Shush!" Cooper grinned, putting a hand over my mouth, which I hated. I licked his palm to force him to get off and so he did. I giggled when he wiped his hand dry on the couch, but then got back to the conversation.

"What was it like?" I asked.

"Amazing."

"What did you do?"

"Everything."

"With who?"

"Just some girl."

"Can I have it?!"

Then, the door to the hallway flew open and my father stepped in with an upset and angry look on his face. I had never seen that mixture of emotions on him and it made me feel weird. He stepped towards me and my brother and I cringed.

"The both of you, upstairs. Now," was the only thing he voiced, but the way he said it told me that we shouldn't even think about disobeying him.

At first I thought that he was mad because I was still up, but his body was radiating so many different feelings, that I started to doubt my speculation. However, I didn't understand what else had made him this upset, but my young mind couldn't let it go either.

It was another sleepless night for me and in time I would find out that there would be many more, because the next morning, I got told that I wasn't going to school and my parents stayed home, too. They were packing a bag with some stuff, mostly things I could entertain myself with and they told me to get dressed. I did my normal routine and when I got downstairs, they were already standing by the door.

"Where are we going?" I asked, giving them both an oblivious look.

But my mom opened the door and my dad laid his hand on my back, softly forcing me outside and making me get into the car. How could I've expected that I would be spending my following Mondays somewhere else than at school?


	5. Chapter 5 Oblivious

**And here you have it, the chapter that will explain Blaine's behavior. I've worked really hard on this one, so please guys, some reviews would be lovely. Thank you for taking the effort if you already have or when you will. Anyway, I've said enough, just read along and**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter five**

Oblivious

_Puck_

It had took a month before the boys at Dalton Academy had been noticing how the new kid with the curly hairs was following around the most popular guy at school. And unfortunately, the badass wasn't aware that they had started talking behind his back and that some of them had even found the courage to make fun of the duo. It was during English class that Puck finally picked up on it.

"Noah, would you please read the first paragraph?" the teacher asked from behind her desk.

"No," sounded the short and confident answer, "'sides, name's Puck."

The elder woman sighed. "We've already been through this, Mr. Puckerman. The teachers at this school refuse to call you by your nickname."

"It isn't a nickname. It's my name."

"Noah."

"Lay off, woman!" Blaine, who was sitting next to Puck, had been studying carefully what was going on. It didn't lie in his personality to interrupt in a discussion he had nothing to do with and especially not one that involved an authority. Then again, Blaine had been doing lots of things that he had never done before. Puck had somehow figured that out and that's why he rolled his eyes in annoyance when the boy stuck up for him.

The teacher frowned and opened her mouth to call the two students to order, but someone else in class was a little faster.

"Did you hear a barking?" he asked the girl who was sitting behind him. It was the only guy at the whole Academy who didn't seem to be scared of Puck's tough, robust and fearless appearance.

"What did you say, Calferone?" Puck shot him a threatening look, but the guy didn't back down.

"Calm your tits, Puckerman, I just was a little surprised, since I didn't know that we were allowed dogs at school," he scoffed.

"Well you little shit," Puck jumped up from his seat and was already attempting to get over to the pisshead and give him a piece of _his_ mind.

"Puckerman, sit back down!" the demanding voice of the teacher sounded, "Calferone, mind your own business."

Puck sucked in a deep breath and clenched his jaw before he settled behind his table again. He couldn't restrain himself from shooting the boy a last, vicious look and then his eyes fell onto Blaine. The younger one was shifting in his seat uncomfortably and examining the fabric of his blazer. It made Puck crunch his teeth even harder and when the teacher had continued her lesson, he kicked Blaine's chair. The boy shook and looked up scarily, but smiled when the badass offered him a confident wink. Blaine's body got rid its tension and the boy was seemingly calming down.

Minutes later, the bell rang an end to their class and Puck left the room, his roommate on his heels. Suddenly, the Mohawk'd guy noticed the stares from other people and he averted up front, upping his chest to show he wasn't bothered by them.

When they turned a corner to a more peaceful corridor, also the one that leaded them to their dorm, Puck stopped his pace. The sound of the footsteps behind him got a halt, too, and he turned to lock Blaine's not-understanding eyes.

"Okay. Listen," he sighed.

"Hmm?" The boy cocked his head to the side.

"I'm fine with the whole you wanting to be near me thing, although I still don't understand…"

"Me neither."

Puck groaned, throwing his head in his neck for a moment. "I know you don't, now let me finish."

Blaine nodded compliantly.

"Look, Blaine, you were the one that wanted to be friends, so you have to start acting like one," the taller one continued. "Now, you sticking up in class for me was cool, but really, I don't need that from you."

"Okay. I am sorry," the boy attempted to avert his gaze to the ground, but Puck forced him to look up at him.

"I do need for you to start walking beside me, instead of behind me. It looks weird and, to be honest, it does make you look like you're my dog or something."

A furious blush reddened Blaine's cheeks and he muttered some words that weren't really making any sense. His eyes watered a little and Puck rolled his eyes. "Okay, take it easy, Hobbit," he soothed him in his own way, ruffling his curls. The giggle that left Blaine's throat letting him now that the tears had disappeared.

They stepped inside their dorm and, as usual, Puck grabbed a beer from the small fridge. His friend watched him before voicing his question.

"Can I have one?"

"You don't drink."

"I could."

Puck groaned. "Dude, you will probably freak out the moment you get tipsy, which will, as I foresee, be after one beer."

Blaine pouted and dropped himself on his bed, his back facing Puck, who crooked his eyebrows up at him. "Oh, for God's sake," he grumbled, walking over to the fridge. "Here," he threw the can towards him and it hit Blaine's side, who turned around excitedly.

"Awesome! My first beer!" he exclaimed, grabbing the can and opening it.

Laughter sounded through the room when the can almost exploded all over Blaine, the unexpected and innocent look on his face making Puck's stomach hurt. Blaine was still startled, but then joined in on the exclamations of joy and fun. Beer was dripping down his chin and his shirt was soaked and Puck got up to grab a towel from the bathroom.

"So, do you like it?" he teased, handing him the towel so that he could clean up.

Blaine chuckled and shrugged, licking his lips with the tip of his tongue. "I guess."

Puck shook his head and sat down next to him. He watched the boy dry himself off and meanwhile studied his features. He noticed how his dark eyes had something mysterious and how his hair seemed to have its own will, since it was never in the same shape.

"What?" Blaine asked as he started to get uncomfortable.

"Nothing!" Puck responded ever so innocently, "I'm just looking at you."

"Yes, but why?"

Puck gained a dark look over his face and smirked. "I don't know."

It took Blaine a moment to pick up on Puck's joke, but then his mind connected the dots and he glanced away shyly. The Mohawk'd guy smiled at him while he drank his beer, watching his roommate do the same.

"My head feels funny," the smaller one admitted after his second can.

Puck was lying on his back while Blaine was sitting next to him, but he quickly got up. "You're tipsy!" he exclaimed excitedly.

The curly haired boy blinked at him, but then chuckled. "I guess."

"You are!" Puck laughed, starting to poke his sides. Blaine giggled and his body winced at the ticklish feeling, but before he knew it, Puck had him pinned down on the bed and was teasing him furiously.

"No! Stop!" Blaine's breath was hitching in his throat.

"What's the magic word?" Puck continued tickling him, actually enjoying their little fight himself. Probably because of the closeness of their bodies.

"Please?" Blaine guessed in a begging tone.

Puck stopped and grinned down at him, watching the boy under him pant heavily. The darkness of his eyes met the Mohawk'd guy's hazel and the atmosphere around them got lit up by a spark for a split second. Puck got confused by it, because he had never experienced something like that before, so he quickly dropped his weight on top of the boy. Blaine mouthed a muffled 'unf' and Puck rolled off of him, to his side.

"No! You didn't have to go!" Blaine didn't know how fast to respond at the leaving warmth.

"Dude, you were suffocating," Puck snorted.

"Yeah, but…" the younger one didn't finish his sentence.

Puck upped an eyebrow at him. "But what?"

The boy fumbled with the hem of his shirt. "I liked it…" he whispered.

The Mohawk'd guy displayed a surprised look. "Seriously? Did you just say something that you like before you knew if I liked it?"

Blaine's facial expression twisted into shock and he rapidly turned on his side.

"Do you?"

The quasi surprised look disappeared from Puck's face and he smiled gently at him. "I do."

A grin grew on Blaine's lips and he opened his mouth to say something, but then reconsidered and decided not to.

"Yes…?" Puck pushed, already suspecting what the other wanted to voice.

"Can I...err…" Blaine hesitated.

"Can you what?" the Mohawk'd guy questioned.

"Can I…" Another silence.

"Come on, Blaine, ask me," Puck nagged him some more, giving him a comforting smirk.

"Can I…" the scared one took a breath, "can I lay on top of you?"

A wave of pride over his friend washed over Puck and he nodded. "C'mere."

Blaine squeaked and he rolled himself on top of his roommate, nuzzling his face into his neck as Puck felt their stomachs upping and downing in harmony.

Fuck, how he cared.

* * *

_Blaine_

Since the first time I had set foot into the place, I knew I hated hospitals. The smell always made me feel nauseous and I hated the atmosphere. There weren't many words spoken and the scared faces of the people in the waiting rooms always made me feel uncomfortable. The only upside on the visits were that Cooper was sometimes allowed (obligated) to go with me and my parents. I never understood what was going on and no one had ever thought about telling me.

On my sixth visit, my big brother was going with us again, I got dumped into the white room with him again. He would give me a reassuring smile when the door closed behind is, but I could read from his face that he didn't know what was going on either. It was always the same thing. We would be kept in the dark and to make time pass, we would start playing games or just talk to each other. I secretly liked being locked up in a room with Cooper, but somehow the big mirror on one of the wall made me feel uncomfortable. Little did I know that the mirror actually was a glass window where people in white coats were standing behind, examining my every move.

"Coop?" I asked after a few minutes of playing video games, "why do they bring us here?"

"I don't know, little guy," he answered, "but it's okay, right?"

I shrugged, because I didn't know the answer to that question, as I pursed my lips into a thin line.

"I mean that, usually at hospitals, you have to take of your clothes and the doctor puts all these weird things on you, right?" The sound of Cooper's light voice comforted me in some way. "But we just get to play games all the time." He nudged my shoulder and shot me a quick wink. I grinned at him, because his body was radiating easiness. And if my brother wasn't scared or something, than I wasn't either.

"Yeah. You're right," I voiced, turning back to the screen and slamming the buttons on the controller in my twelve year-old hands.

After a while, I never knew how long they would exactly keep us in there and to be honest I didn't really care, my mom would open the door with a smile and invite us out. We would follow her and my dad to the car and that would be the end of another weird Monday.

I had three more visits before I was allowed to sit in the waiting room one time. Cooper hadn't been allowed to come with and I rocked my legs back and forth as I waited for the door to open where my parents had gone through. It was the first time I had seen the doctor and, without a real explanation, I didn't trust him.

It was the last time I had been taken to the hospital and later I figured out that the day I was told to stay in the waiting room that that was the closing conversation my parents had with the doctor. However, neither of them ever told me what had been discussed behind that closed, white door.

* * *

"Have you figured out what's wrong with our son, doctor?" There was hope and sadness in my mom's voice as she crossed her legs and pulled the ends of her dress downwards. Her hands rested on top of her knees and my dad let out a sigh, as if he was mentally preparing himself for something.

"Well, Mrs. Anderson, 'wrong' makes it all sound much more heavy and I don't think we really need that," the doctor spoke wisely, "let's just say that you're son is a little different from other people."

My dad rolled his eyes in annoyance, probably because he found that even worse. "Could you just cut to the case? This is kind of frustrating for us, doc."

The man in the white coat nodded and pushed his glasses up his nose with his index finger. He grabbed my file from the drawer in his desk and opened in, sucking in a breath. "After careful examination and consideration, your son's been diagnosed with DPD, which is short for Dependant Personality Disorder."

My parents were both blinking not understanding at him, but the professional didn't need any encouragement to explain himself.

"It is a psychological disorder that isn't very common with people, which is why we're still researching it and don't know what causes it yet. Up until now, there hasn't been any biological prove, which means that it isn't a physical sickness. There's one speculation we have and that is that it's caused by clinging parental behavior, but we aren't sure yet."

"So you're saying that this is our fault?" My mother sounded upset.

"That's ridiculous. We've always treated our children like every other parent would," my dad defended himself and his wife.

The doctor made a soothing gesture with his hands. "I'm not trying to imply anything, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, I'm just giving you the facts."

My parents settled down a little, so the middle aged man decided to continue.

"It is proven that individuals with DPD see other people as much more capable to shoulder life's responsibilities, to navigate a complex world, and to deal with the competitions of life. Other people appear powerful, competent, and capable of providing a sense of security and support to individuals with DPD. That person, to Blaine, is your other son and his brother, Cooper. Dependent individuals avoid situations that require them to accept responsibility for themselves; they look to others to take the lead and provide continuous support. These individuals are fixated in the past. They maintain youthful impressions; they retain unsophisticated ideas and childlike views of the people toward whom they remain totally submissive."

My mother was now nodding along, obviously linking the characteristics of the disorder to my personality and actions.

"Individuals with DPD see themselves as inadequate and helpless; they believe they are in a cold and dangerous world and are unable to cope on their own. They define themselves as inept and abdicate self-responsibility; they turn their fate over to others. These individuals will decline to be ambitious and believe that they lack abilities, virtues and attractiveness. The solution to being helpless in a frightening world is to find capable people who will be nurturing and supportive toward those with DPD. Within protective relationships, individuals with DPD will be self-effacing, baggerly, agreeable, docile, and ingratiating. They will deny their individuality and subordinate their desires to significant others. They internalize the beliefs and values of significant others. By seeing themselves as protected by the power of others, they do not have to feel the anxiety attached to their own helplessness and impotence. However, to be comfortable with themselves and their inordinate helplessness, individuals with DPD must deny the feelings they experience and the deceptive strategies they employ. They limit their awareness of both themselves and others. Their limited perceptiveness allows them to be naive and uncritical…"

"I do hear Blaine say 'me too' a lot," my mother suddenly interrupted as her mind slowly grasped on the realness of the diagnose.

"…They see relationships with significant others as necessary for survival," the doctor ignored her sentence, "they do not define themselves as able to function independently; they have to be in supportive relationships to be able to manage their lives. In order to establish and maintain these life-sustaining relationships, people with DPD will avoid even covert expressions of anger. They will be more than meek and compliant; they will be admiring, loving, and willing to give their all. They will be loyal, unquestioning, and affectionate. They will be tender and considerate toward those upon whom they depend. On top of that, dependent individuals play the inferior role to the superior other very well; they communicate to the dominant people in their lives that they are useful, sympathetic, strong, and competent. With these methods, individuals with DPD are often able to get along with unpredictable or isolated people…"

"Cooper isn't isolated nor unpredictable," my dad continued to defend.

"I wasn't saying that he is, Mr. Anderson. I'm just telling you what we know," the doctor reassured him, "now where was I? Oh, right…they will engage in denial or distortion of both their own and others' negative, self-defeating, or destructive behaviors to sustain an idealized, and sometimes fictional, story of the relationships upon which they depend. They will deny their individuality, their differences, and ask for little other than acceptance and support."

"You have to admit that it all sounds too familiar, love," my mom tried to help to get my father through the realization.

"Not only will individuals with DPD subordinate their needs to those of others, they will meet unreasonable demands and submit to abuse and intimidation to avoid isolation and abandonment. Dependent individuals so fear being unable to function alone that they will agree with things they believe are wrong rather than risk losing the help of people upon whom they depend. They will volunteer for unpleasant tasks if that will bring them the care and support they need. They will make extraordinary self-sacrifices to maintain important bonds. It is important to note that individuals with DPD, in spite of the intensity of their need for others, do not necessarily attach strongly to specific individuals, in example, they will become quickly and indiscriminately attached to others when they have lost a significant relationship. It is the strength of the dependency needs that is being addressed; attachment figures are basically interchangeable. Attachment to others is a self-referenced and, at times, haphazard process of securing the protection of the most readily available powerful other willing to provide nurturance and care."

"I know, but this is all so…surreal. I don't know. I guess I just have to get used to the idea that one of our sons is labeled with a 'disorder," my dad responded to my mom's sentence when the doctor had finished his medical rant.

"I understand that this is a lot to take in all of a sudden, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, but unfortunately, that doesn't make it less real," he said.

"Yes, we know, but why don't we start talking about the possibilities in order to…fix him?" my mother proposed a little uncomfortable.

"Well, I'm sad to tell you that there aren't real solutions or therapies for this disorder yet since, as I mentioned before, this is still all very new and rare to us."

"So what? We have to force our oldest son to throw his life around so that our youngest child won't kill himself out of fear?" my dad voiced in frustration.

"That would be a little extreme, Mr. Anderson," the man in the white coat judged him, which made my dad roll his eyes, "what I think you should do is to try to make Blaine more undependable. Try to teach him that he has to take care of himself one day and give him the confidence to trust himself."

"And how would we do that, exactly?" my father was obviously getting tired of the doctor's vagueness.

"There's a lot, actually. It lies in the little things, like, let him do his own chores around the house, let him wash his own clothes, for example."

My mom nodded and a small smile appeared on her face. "We'll try that," she had mustered to sound confident. "Thank you for time." The caring woman had figured that it was time to give her husband some breathing space.

"Here are some pamphlets and folders with the information I just told you. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to call me to answer them."

"Thanks, doc."

* * *

I didn't know.


End file.
